A Happier Beginning
by MirandaHAA
Summary: Thomas stopped Edward killing himself that night. Here's what happened next.


**I was so upset that Edward died and never got together with Thomas that I couldn't bring myself to write a story about them. But I was so inspired by Red Haired Goddess's story 'A Happier Ending' that I wrote a continuation to it. So this is what happened the next morning after Thomas stopped Edward killing himself.**

###########

When I woke up the next morning, all was quiet and still. Had I killed myself after all and gone to heaven? Or was I in hell for my sins? No, surely hell would be noisier, full of the screams of tormented souls.

Had last night with Thomas been a dream then? Had I dreamed that he loved me and saved my life?

The familiar sound of the medication trolley roused me from my musings and I listened to the quiet chatter of the nurses, the rumble of the soldiers' voices, the odd female giggle and male chuckle.

In the distance, another voice grew louder, a voice that made me smile and tremble at the same time.

"You must see 'im, Doctor Clarkson. If I hadn't stopped 'im, 'e'd of killed himself."

"Come, come, man. Surely you're exaggerating," blustered Clarkson, and I gently touched the small wound on my wrist, made before I knew the truth about Sergeant Barrow.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Courtenay," murmured the sweet voice of Nurse Crawley, who'd told me to call her Sybil.

"Let's have a look," Clarkson said, but it wasn't his hand which gently took hold of my wrist.

"'Ere, look. If that'd been 'alf an inch lower…" Thomas's gruff voice.

"Hm… I see what you mean." The tapping of what sounded like a pen on a pad of paper. "Lieutenant Courtenay, did you mean to kill yourself?"

I paused for a second, gathering my thoughts. "Of course I did! I'm never going to see again. My family were on the verge of disowning me before, but now I'm worth nothing to them. I won't have a home to go to if I ever leave hospital. And I'm not the only one, I've spoken to others, so many of us feel the same. Life isn't worth living if you're blind and useless." I stopped before I embarrassed myself by crying.

"He's obviously very depressed," said Sybil. "He shouldn't be moved far away from his friends."

"Well, specialist care would be best for his condition, your ladyship," said Clarkson, "but—"

Thomas's hand caressed mine. If my future hadn't been hanging in the balance, I'd have smiled at his excuse to hold my hand.

"If you send 'im away from here, 'e'll try it again—" he began.

"I know my father will agree," said Sybil. "If I tell him—"

My hearing was definitely compensating for my lack of sight, as I could distinguish exactly what they each said simultaneously.

"I won't make any hasty decisions," said Clarkson. "Let him rest here for another week."

Thomas squeezed my hand, then let it go abruptly. Maybe someone noticed.

They must have gone because I suddenly felt alone. One week. Even if it ended after that, I'd have one week to be with Thomas.

#######

When I woke again, it seemed to be dark. I could sense daylight and darkness, and now it was dark, the quiet broken by the sound of men snoring, some playing card games. I'd never be doing that again, that was certain. I was still in my uniform, I supposed everyone had been too busy to help me into my pyjamas. Maybe I should have done it myself.

Someone sat on the end of my bed.

"Who's there?" I hissed, tensing.

"It's only me." Thomas's voice. I put my hand out to him and he gripped it with his. "I got good news."

"What?"

"Lady Sybil told 'er ladyship about you, and she told the Earl to make you a special case to stay here and convalesce. Int that grand?"

"A special case?"

I thought for a while. Maybe I was a special case. A newly blind person who had found love with another man. It was a step into a new world.

"What d'you say to that then?" he persisted. "They're going to look into all the reports of depressed patients and do summat about it."

"Tha—that's marvellous."

"You don't sound too 'appy."

"Well, I am. I can stay here, even if I'm still blind."

"Yes. Now listen. Why don't you come to my room now?"

"Really?" I stared in the direction I thought his face would be.

"Yes. Come on." He moved as if to stand up.

"But won't someone find out?"

"They don't check til early morning. You can be back by then." He pulled the covers off my legs and I hopped out of bed.

He led me through rooms and corridors and up a flight of stairs, he could well have been leading me to my death, but I trusted him. Anyway, I'd had a bit of happiness lately, if that was all, so be it.

The sudden sound of voices, giving instructions, so he pushed me into what must be an alcove and mumbled, "shush."

It reminded me of hiding from the masters at school, all the bed hopping and secret meetings which went on in boys' public school. But the others grew out of all that, I never did. My parents paraded a never-ending stream of suitable young ladies in front of me; I always got on well with them but I never liked them the way I liked men.

My back was right up against a wall and Thomas was right up against me, so I nuzzled his neck and breathed on it, making him quiver and stifle a laugh. The voices droned on and on, so we took advantage of the time and kissed again, it seemed so long since last night. I hadn't been imagining it, he did want to kiss me, the familiar, yet foreign taste of him overwhelming me.

Stopping for breath, he mumbled, "they've gone. Let's go." And led me along some other corridors until I heard the squeak of a door hinge. "In 'ere."

He led me further by the hand until I bumped into something which hit my thighs with a creak.

"Here's the bed."

"Thanks for the warning. A bit late." I felt an urge to laugh rising—no longer was I the invalid in a hospital bed, I was a daring escapee, evading the law to do what I wanted. I felt the shape of the bed, a proper hospital bed, sturdy on a metal frame. Not one of the servant beds I'd seen as a child, peeking into the staff bedrooms while playing hide and seek. Rickety, creaky old things, too narrow for two men to sleep in. But Thomas's bed wasn't like that.

"Don't look so nervous, I'm not going to ravish you."

"Aren't you? Oh."

The bed moved as he sat on it. "Come on." He pulled me awkwardly onto the bed with him, my arms and legs all over the place, as I had no real idea of where he or the bed were. I ended up on top of him, shaking with laughter, my face pressed to his.

"Your nursing skills aren't up to much," I mumbled into his cheek.

"Well, I'm only a poor footman—I mean, sergeant." His voice had a laugh in as well and I kissed where I thought his mouth was, which was a good guess.

"It's getting rather hot in here," I said after a while. Not really surprising—we both wore our thick serge uniforms, I was lying on top of him in a warm room in late spring, but it was far more than that heating us up.

"You noticed, eh." He lifted me up a bit and began undoing my jacket with practised fingers.

"Thought you weren't going to ravish me?"

"Maybe it's your lucky night." There was definitely a smile in his voice.

"Or yours, you mean."

"Damn cheek." He slapped my arse and I jumped. He threw my jacket off and I hugged him, his uniform buttons digging into my chest. So I undid them and took his jacket off too.

"Thank you for saving my life." I kissed him again before he could speak, and before long, all our clothes were in a heap on the floor.

We cuddled up closely in the bed, naked skin against naked skin. I breathed a sigh of relief, and so did he.

I don't even have words for our night together, I don't want to spoil the perfection of it. I'd heard people talking about Sergeant Barrow, how he was cruel and selfish, only out for his own gain. But he wasn't like that with me. I was starting to think being blind had its advantages—I could get lost in sensation and feeling, undistracted by how things appeared. But I still wished I knew what he looked like.

######

We awoke to the sound of birdsong, quickly drowned out by the clattering of bedpans. I cuddled up to Thomas, hoping the noise wouldn't wake him, but he twitched and tightened his arms round me for a second.

"Haven't slept that well for a long time," he mumbled, stroking my hair. "I better get you back to your bed."

"Can't this be my bed now?" I was still in the dream world of us together, reality only seeping back slowly.

He sighed. "I wish it could."

We sat up and he helped me get dressed. I sat sullenly, not assisting in any way, like a mannequin in a shop window.

I didn't pay attention to the walk back to my bed, busy thinking and leaving all the caution to Thomas. We went slowly, then a voice interrupted my reverie.

"Sergeant Barrow?" Was that Sybil? Lady Sybil. It would have been so much easier if I had a face to put to the name.

"We just went for a morning walk," said Thomas, his fingers digging into my arm.

"Of course. Fresh air's best for recovering patients."

Normally, I'd have snapped, "I'm not going to recover though." But I was too happy and just smiled in her direction. "It's certainly helped me a lot. It was very kind of Sergeant Barrow to think of walking round the lake with me."

"You had better get him back to bed, Dr Clarkson's on his way."

I imagined she said that with a smile, mirrored by Thomas. I let him lead me back to my bed.

"You'll 'ave to start walking on your own soon, y'know," he said, tucking me in with a lot of smoothing of blankets over my front, which made me smile.

"Yes. You can help me. I insist."

"Is that an order, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Sergeant."

He squeezed my hand.

######

Days and weeks passed, the weather warmed and the evenings got lighter. Lady Sybil procured civilian clothes for us, and it was bliss to take off the scratchy wool uniform and wear smooth cotton and linen instead.

Thomas fed me information about the situation, bit by bit. It seemed that Clarkson and the Crawleys had investigated the mental condition of the wounded soldiers and found them sadly in need of comfort. I got mine from my sergeant of course, so my morale was just getting higher and higher, but the other soldiers weren't as lucky. The Crawley-Clarkson committee decided to make Downton Abbey a convalescent home, and I would be one of the first residents.

"See?" said Thomas, as we sat outside in the warm sun. "Good things do happen." I wanted to hug him, but that would have to wait for one of our secret nights alone.

"Lieutenant Courtenay?" interrupted a female voice. I felt Thomas jump, as his chair was right up against mine. "You have visitors."

"Visitors? Wh—who? Why?"

"Your parents."

"My—parents?" My insides churned. I hadn't seen them for—it must be nearly a year. I'd never see them again, either. A vision of my father's stern, red face and my mother's cold, pale one entered my mind's eye and I gritted my teeth.

"I'll go," said Thomas but I clutched at him.

"No. Stay. I need someone on my side."

"Edward?" My mother's voice and a smell of lavender preceded her.

"What do you want?" I gripped the arm of the chair, wishing it was Thomas's hand.

"Darling. We came to see how you were."

"Why do you care? You never came before."

Thomas snorted but turned it into a cough.

"We—er—we came to—we came to apologise." My mother's words tumbled out in a rush. "We've treated you very badly and we want to make it up to you."

"What?" I felt sick. Hypocrites! They'd made it clear they didn't want their burden of a son around, with my refusal to marry and my lack of interest in war and fighting. An outdoor life farming appealed to me, not killing my fellow men.

"What's happened to your precious Jack? He was the blue eyed boy, where's he gone?"

There was a long pause.

"I'll just go and—" said Thomas.

"You will not." I turned to his voice and made myself frown.

"Jack turned out to be a bad lot," said my father's rich, deep voice. "He's now in prison."

"Albert!" snapped my mother. "Don't tell the world."

"In prison?" I said loudly. "Whatever for?"

"He—he—became interested in gambling, and—"

"Mother, he's always been interested in gambling. Didn't you know?"

"Y-yes, but—"

"Edward, your brother gambled his allowance away." My father's voice. "He then stole valuable items from us, then other people. He also indulged in carnal sin."

My mouth twitched. Carnal sin. How quaint.

"You mean, he liked the ladies too much and fathered a few bastards," I summarised.

"Edward!"

"Shall I get you some water, Mrs Courtenay?" asked Thomas.

"Oh. Yes, thank you."

After his footsteps had trudged away, she continued. "Who is that chap? Someone from your regiment? He's a handsome devil, he reminds me of Arthur, the youngest Cavendish boy."

I distinctly remembered Arthur Cavendish, our dark haired neighbour, who I'd always liked the look of. But he'd been killed in the war and Thomas hadn't.

"He's—he's my— best friend. He's been looking after me since I became blind, he's always there. Unlike some people I could mention."

"Oh, darling." Mother sniffed and made a whimpering noise. "Your father and I—we've been very stupid—"

"Florence! Control yourself. What she means, Edward, dear boy, is that we misjudged you. Your brother has been a cad and a bounder, he's left some young women in very dire straits indeed. He will never be able to pay off his debts and there are rumours—well, I can't tell you, but they concern his health."

I smirked.

"Here's your water, Mrs Courtenay," Thomas plonked the glass on something which sounded like metal. Perhaps one of those ornamental wrought iron tables for garden use.

"Thank you, Mr—er—"

"Sergeant Barrow, madam."

"So, why have you come to see me then?" I asked. "Other than to tell me what I already knew, that Jack is a scoundrel."

"We want our son back," blurted Mother. "We overlooked you and didn't consider you of value, until it was too late."

"It's not too late though, is it, Edward, my boy?" Father sounded more enthusiastic than I'd ever heard him. Previously I'd never been good enough, never tried hard enough, never pleased him with anything I did.

I paused long enough for them to start shuffling in their seats, Mother's skirts swishing, Father's feet tapping.

"What can you do for me then? I'll never work or marry, I'm blind and useless. I can see dark and light and some shapes, but no more."

"We don't care about that! We want you to come home and live at Courtenay Grange again. With us." Mother's voice quivered.

I paused again. "So, now Jack's gone, I'm suddenly good enough?" I didn't want to leave the convalescent home and I certainly didn't want to leave Thomas.

"Yes, my dear first born son!" Mother cried.

I felt tears in my eyes. What an easy victory for them. "If… IF… I choose to believe you and come home again, I want someone to look after me, like a nurse."

"I'll nurse you," she babbled. "Or we'll hire someone, a first rate nurse from the best private school."

"No, Mother. I want someone _**I**_ choose. Not someone I don't know, who doesn't know my ways."

"Of—of course, dear."

"Now, leave me to think. I want time alone to get over the shock." I flapped my hand dismissively in their direction.

"This way, Mr and Mrs Courtenay." Thomas's voice was hard as granite, and as unyielding. Their footsteps crunched away across the gravel.

I sat deep in thought, I'm not sure for how long. Shadows passed across my face, people's voices got louder and softer as they went by, the sun moved round on its endless journey.

My parents had begun rejecting me in adolescence, favouring my golden haired, charming, energetic younger brother. Popular with the ladies, their mothers, religious devotees, socialites… just about everyone. I'd been overlooked. Quiet in the corner, not much to say. Friendly with the ladies but never anything further. I'd been content to trudge along, living a grey life, until my parents threatened to disown me for reasons I didn't fully understand. And then war came along. My reaction to war also disappointed them. Not for me the glory and excitement, the enjoyment of kitting myself out in a glamorous uniform, promising victory to all who asked. I wanted to avoid it all, the death and blood and madness, and continue my quiet life.

Until I'd been blinded, and met Sergeant Barrow. I didn't care what he looked like, although my fingers had caressed his face a hundred times by now. But my world was no longer grey, it was full of colour, and he made me feel invincible. I could do anything, as long as he was beside me.

So. My parents wanted to take me away from him, back to a place I half hated, with people I'd grown to despise. I would not go. I would not go, unless he came with me. I set my jaw. That would be what they'd have to arrange, if they truly loved me.

What would the alternative be? Staying here with him in our cosy life? Nights in his room, days relaxing, listening to music put on for the benefit of the blind patients. Lady Edith reading newspapers and books to us. Lady Sybil coming to talk about any subject we wanted, especially politics. They had a sister, Lady Mary, who came to visit someone called Matthew, but I wasn't sure who he was.

My parents couldn't force me to go with them, I wasn't a child anymore. Yes, I was an invalid, but I wasn't of unsound mind. I'd been tested for that. Dr Clarkson brought people to talk to me, they thought I didn't realise they were studying me, writing things down in their notebooks about me. So far, I'd never been told 'you're a lunatic, we're taking you to the asylum.' So I was sure I could stay here unobstructed.

########

That evening, I felt Thomas sit on my bed. I was tuned into him now, like a wireless channel.

"Can I help you?" I smiled, the tension leaving me.

"Well. I—er—um—"

"Spit it out, man." My smile grew broader.

"What you gonna do? About your parents?" His hand touched mine, hesitantly.

"They have two choices. One, leave me alone to stay here. Two, take me back home, BUT I'll only go if they let me bring a nurse with me."

"A nurse? Like, a woman?"

I chuckled. "No, you idiot. I thought… you're pretty good at putting up with me. Maybe you'd like to come along?"

He gasped and I grabbed his hand. I was still in my uniform, so I began to get off the bed. "Let's go for an evening stroll."

We hurried out into the garden, the evening was darkening but it made no difference to me. "Take us somewhere private."

He led me along gravel paths and then on grass.

"Are we quite alone?"

"Yes."

I flung my arms round him and hugged him tightly to me. "Please say yes. Come with me and we'll have a marvellous life."

No answer, although he hugged me back.

"Or, if you don't want to, we'll stay here and still have a marvellous life."

"You can't stay at a convalescent 'ome forever," he whispered in my ear. "The war will end, I'll go back into service."

"Come with me then." My world quivered on the brink of collapse.

"I'd love to." He pressed his lips against mine and we stayed there embracing, til it grew completely dark and we had to go inside again.

And that is how I came to return to Courtenay Grange, beloved son of my mother and father, with my beloved sergeant at my side forever.


End file.
